Disturbed
by cookie-monster101
Summary: Sweeney's trapped in a torture nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

cookie-monster101: hello,its me,again. i seem to be throwing out stories like Mrs Lovett's pies nowadays. :)

So without further a-do,here's another story!

*~*~*

"Mr T, can you 'ear me?" the voice was soft, hoping not to alarm him, but to bring him to his senses. She was overjoyed that he was o-kay. (on the outside, at least)

Sweeney knew that voice. Almost as soon as the words escaped her mouth, he had his eyes open. _Mrs Lovett_. He was sore all over. His body throbbed from every area possible. _Mrs Lovett._

"Can you move my love?" he wasn't quite sure. It took a lot of energy just to open his eyes.

"Not to worry, i'll get Toby to 'elp me. I 'ave to leave you for a minute but, I'll be back. I'll be back." He didn't want her to leave. He'd been alone for hours; he was thankful for her presence. But she had to, if he were ever going to get up. He felt a small peck on his cheek before she left.

Sweeney thought he'd never been so sad to see her go.

He looked up at the night sky. No stars, just darkness. Story of Sweeneys life.  
His back was wet from lying on the damp streets of London for so long. Rats ran around him. He couldn't move away from them,only watch the filty beasts scurry around him. There was a smell in the air. Probably just the general smell of London,he thought.  
It was cold. It had been colder, but Sweeneys body had adjusted slightly. Now he only felt numb. Numb was better than pain, he figured.  
When would Mrs Lovett be back?

The months/dates/years didn't register with him, ever since his days in prison. But judging by the weather, it had to be December, or at least the winter season. He didn't want to lie here any longer. Where is she?!

"Sshh, my love, I'm back." A small hand slotted into his, soothing him immediately. She'd been afraid he was dead. From a distance she was convinced he was,and had desperately prayed for someone to bring him back. Until,that was,she got closer. He **was** breathing.  
But felt so cold.

"Oo, you're freezing love. Open your eyes, if ye can." She needed to see him move, if just a little bit.

He eventually did as she said, but it hurt her to see the struggle it was for him. They both knew if she couldn't get him home quickly enough, get him out of the cold...

"Lets get you home Mr T." The habit of calling him Mr T had stuck. Not matter how inappropiate it was, they were both used to it and anything else would have been strange to their ears.

He groaned painfully as she lifted him from one side. "C'mon Toby, 'elp me out." The boy had been standing, watching, for at least two minutes now. He knew they should have taken Mr Todd straight home, but he let Mrs Lovett have her 'moment', just in case he really did die. He'd never felt pity for Mr Todd. Even now, when the man looked a state, and his body was bruised an' battered. If they'd left him longer he would have surely died. Normally, Mr Todd was a man to be feared, and feared is what Toby did. He liked to stay away from him all together. It got to a point where Toby wouldn't bother to answer back, but simply do whatever it was Mr Todd had ordered.

Of course, he would do anything Mrs Lovett asked of him, just because it was Mrs Lovett. The woman he'd come to think of as a mother...she'd been better to him than his proper mother had ever been.

So, without a word, he ran to Mr Todd's other side.

...

"Mrs Lovett." The first word she'd heard Sweeny utter in...it had been so long.,she'd forgotten when the last time she heard his voice was.  
It shocked and delighted Mrs Lovett.

"Yes. Yes, I'm 'ere. Right 'ere love. I ain't goin anywhere." She was a big talker in normal situations,but tended to babble even more whenever in a panic, or nervous.

"Mrs Lovett...." this was his way of thanking her. She'd saved his life. Mrs Lovett understood what he was trying to do. She touched his forehead reassuringly, "Mr T, rest now. You need to sleep." His eyes shut slowly, but he was soon lost in dreamland.

"oh, what did they do to you." she whispered to the sleeping Mr T. He'd been through hell, once more. The man was damaged enough without whatever happened to him. Now she feared he would never recover. Bad things were all that ever occured in the poor mans life. Overwhelming pity and pain, for Mr T, was all she could feel. and love, of course.

Mrs Lovett wanted to know what happened, so she could help him. But she mustn't push him till he's had some rest. Mrs Lovett was a patient woman, sometimes. She could wait. She'd spend her life waiting for Mr T.

An hour later, and Mrs Lovett was finally drifting off, satisfied he was asleep.

That was when a hand reached out, clutching at her dress. "No! No!" He'd startled her, Mr T. It wasn't normal behaviour for him. Or, Mrs Lovett had forgotten what Mr T's outbursts were like. He seemed calm up till now,but hearing him shout like that brought back all those times he lost his temper. Oh yes,Mr T had a temper unlike any other.

"Oh, love, calm down!" He took no notice of her. She touched his hand, and held it. It seemed to calm him down immensely. This pleased her, knowing she did have a little impact on him after all. Then again, maybe it was the first bit of human contact he'd had in months that wasn't violent. But she'd make him forget that. Through choice Mrs Lovett was holding his hand, and he was holding hers. He held on so tightly, as if she'd disappear any a second, as if she wasn't really there.

"Everything's okay love, you're safe." Mrs Lovett wanted to say more to him, but that would do for now. Her voice soothed him to sleep again.

Her eyes shut, just like his. Her head drooped, exhausted from constant anxiety and worry. _He's fine for now Mrs Lovett...He's fine..._

The first thing she realised when she came to, be the warmth of Mr T's hand around hers... it was no longer there. She felt empty.

"Mum, wake up! Mum he's gone!" The boy (though he sounded more and more like a man every day now) spoke the very words she'd wished not to hear. Mrs Lovett fully opened her tired eyes.

"Did you see him go?" Her voice sounded raspy, making her sound older than her years also.

"I don't know mum. I just came up 'ere the now and saw he'd gone. I never saw him go or nothin."

Mrs Lovett shook her head, trying to wash away the tiredness. She had to find him.

"Alright Toby dear, I need you to look after the shop fir a while." She would find him.

"Course mum." She didn't bother getting into a more suitable dress for the day. She didn't bother doing anything. Mr T was her only care now, he was mostly her only care.

Stepping out, Mrs Lovett found the streets fairly busy. It was London, after all. She had to remind herself that sometimes, even though she'd lived there her whole life. London was always busy, aside from the small hours ae the morning, exactly when they'd found Mr T. That was lucky finding him, she thought. But now he'd gone again, this time by his own accord. _Why_ wasn't on her mind; Mrs Lovett had stopped questioning Mr T's methods of madness, oh, years ago now. She just got on with it.

Sweeney was hobbling through yet another alley. Why? He didn't know himself. He kept waking up last night, and Mrs Lovett would always be there by his side. Holding her hand, he had found, was strangely comforting. But one time when he awoke, she was asleep. He knew then, he needed to get away. He couldn't live there anymore, burdening her, and even that boy. He knew that boy hated him. It had taken a lot of effort to learn to walk on his own again, but he'd done it. This was Sweeney Todd, who could do anything if he put his mind to it.

But he missed her. He missed her kind words and warm 'ands. He'd never been so glad to see her at last night's _reunion_. Now, he was on his own, again. People passed by, going about their daily lives. No one noticed him down the alley. Nobody cared if they did. He would have just looked like another homeless person living on the streets; he still wore his dirty clothes from the night before. Though Mrs Lovett was more than obliging to get rid of them,he'd refused.

_Everything's okay love, you're safe_. The last words from Mrs Lovett he'd heard, before falling asleep. A disturbed sleep no less, but a sleep. It's a miracle he slept at all. In the past he didn't like to. It was always disturbed, and always full of dreams. He didn't want to dream....

"Mr T, Mr T." Mrs Lovett? Was he hearing right? Ah, it _was_ her. He knew she'd come.

Mrs Lovett lifted him easily this time, not caring whether she would hurt him. "Why did you leave you great loaf?! Why?" she as asking why now, though only through concern. She wasn't really angry, she could never be with him. She was worried. Just looking at him, the state he was in.  
"You're not well! You can't go gallivanting around." She didn't know if he was listening, as per usual. He just let her lead him back to the shop in peace.  
The dreaded blank stare had returned.

***~*~***

A/N: All will become clear in time. **Reviews** make me day! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry if this may be confusing you. i tend to write confusing without really noticing it.... but,yeah,i'll try to fix that.  
I at least hope this chapter makes things a _bit_ more clear. Tis a mystery after all.

*~*~*

She thought he was back, Benjamin Barker. He was _finally_ back. After all those years as Sweeney Todd, Mrs Lovett had _finally_ achieved in getting her Ben back. He was hers now; they were each other's. That dream for a life down by the sea... hadn't looked so far away.  
Until one night, that all changed. She curses that night.

It had started with Mrs Lovett trying to persuade Mr T to sleep with her.

" Mr T..." She whined, drawing out the _T._

"What." He made it sound more like a statement that a question. He always got moody at the end of the day. Who knows why? Unpredictable man, Mrs Lovett thought. He'd stopped killing people months ago; the judge was long gone. It was just them, and Toby-nobody else. You'd think he would be overjoyed that his beloved revenge was completed. Joanna was safely elope with Anthony,and as for Lucy... she was dead. Mrs Lovett had made sure of that.  
But oh no, not him.

Business had wavered a little considering the decline in meat products, but they were getting by. Mrs Lovett didn't care about the money; the important thing was that he was still here. Becoming more and more like Benjamin each day. He helped with the money also by still being a barber to any willing customers.

"Well, you don't want to be sitting up there on your own tonight, do you?" he didn't answer her, as usual. Get past a certain point in the day and he seems to return to being Sweeney. A nice Sweeney, but still Sweeney.

"You always do that love. My room has double bed y'know..."

Finally realising what she was getting at, he started walking away from her, back to his secluded barbers.

"Mr T it's only a suggestion! No need to walk away." She muttered to herself in frustration. But, more than determined to get what she wanted, Mrs Lovett ran after him. When she caught up, she grabbed his arm and held it with all the strength she could muster.

He immediately shook her off. "Mrs Lovett, no, I will not sleep with you. Please leave me be." He was far more polite nowadays, too. But it still took a lot of effort for him to do anything with her.

"Why do you not want to be seen with me, Benjamin?"

He stopped, and very slowly turned to look at her. She regretted saying anything.

"My name is not Benjamin. Stop calling me that." he turned back around and swiftly started climbing the stairs again, signalling the end of their conversation.

But he is Benjamin, Mrs Lovett thought angrily. Deep down he's still the man I fell in love with. I'll make him realise that. Mrs Lovett wouldn't give up that easily.

He managed to reach the landing before she grabbed his arm again. She's like an annoying child, thought Sweeney.

"Love, you need a good sleep, come with me,please. " He really stared her down, and she got very flustered under his gaze. He could still pull a Sweeney look when he wanted too.

He wasn't going to get any peace if he didn't go along with her, Sweeney thought, just for tonight he would go with her. A bed to sleep in sounded tempting anyway.

"Alright. But no funny business." Was that a smile on his lips? Mrs Lovett missed his smile. It had been the first thing that attracted him to her in the first place. Of course, his eyes were a big attraction as well. His eyes were really something else. Not to mention his body, his unusually handsome face...

He tapped her on the shoulder, bringing her back to reality. "Mrs Lovett, I'm tired." Oh, this was her chance! He really was going to sleep with her. Well, not like that, but in the same bed! Her hand secured its place around his. It held him so tightly he thought his circulation might stop.

...

"Toby!" Just as she'd thought, the boy was asleep. It made her laugh the amount that boy drank. Course, it wasn't healthy, but he didn't drink enough to make his little body ill. It was just enough to make him dead to the world for an entire night.

Perfect, Mrs Lovett thought.

"Well, Mr T, shall we get to bed then? It's gettin late. " Her face lit up with a smile at the thought of sleeping in the same _room_ as Mr T,never mind bed.  
He mumbled something in reply. She was giving him second thoughts about the whole thing...but when he saw the comfy bed before him, he had to stay. The chair upstairs wasn't exactly comfy to sleep in.

Mrs Lovett went to retrieve her sleeping garments, as Mr T clambered under the covers.

"Dear, aren't you going to get out of those clothes? They aren't really meant for sleepin in..." she shouted through from the other room she was getting changed in.  
He didn't see anything wrong with them. He always slept in his clothes.

"No." was his tired answer. She sighed and switched off the light.

Mr T was terrible to sleep with (in her eyes.) For one, she expected him to at least _move._ But he didn't. He stayed as still as anything, meaning she couldn't _accidentally_ bump into him. As disappointed as Mrs Lovett was, she lay awake almost the whole night, savouring the warmth next to her.  
It was very rare he should agree to sleep in the same bed as her. A step in the right direction, Mrs Lovett thought.  
But at one point or another, she fell asleep.

The next morning, he was gone. Mrs Lovett wept for months and months. Each day she would awake to hopefully find him back on her doorstep.  
To find him in his barbers above, or standing in her shop like he did the first time he came back to London.  
Nothing.

For months upon months, he never returned. She began to think he would never come back. That was a sad thought. There was no reason for him to leave by his own choice; they were content. She was happy being with him (always had been), and he was getting _used_ to the idea of being with her. She knew he wouldn't just leave.

Somebody must have taken him, for unknown reasons. There was no reason she could think of that someone would want to take him. No reason at all. But they _must _have.

It was a mystery.

Either way, Mrs Lovett resigned herself to the fact he wasn't coming back after almost a year gone. Her heart was broken.

*~*~*

ahh,what do you think? :S i'd really appreciate if you just clicked that little review button and reviewed. Thank you. ^.^


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long to update, its pure laziness on my part.

Big thanks to my lovely new beta-Taylor! (FragileFantasy) :)

*~*~*

The smell of rotting wakes him. It's poignant and revolting. His eyes take a few minutes to adjust. His hands are bound from behind. Bound with chains that feel freezing against his burning skin. The chair he sits on wobbles under his weight. He doesn't weigh much since he hardly eats, but everything about this room is old, broken, fragile.

One, small light shines above him. That's all. Though it's strong, so he's able to point out a few of his surroundings.

On one side of him, the left, sits a small stool. Nothing's on it but a foul-looking red substance. He immediately thinks its blood. He _knows_ its blood. On the other side, sits a table. It's much bigger than the stool, but made of the same material: metal. Or at least, he thinks it's metal. The discolouration makes it hard to tell.

He realizes he's shaking, and instinctively moves to try and warm up. He notices his feet are covered in a cold substance. It's the same as the stuff on the stool, but mixed with different colours. He doesn't like to imagine what could have made those colours up.

He's starting to doubt whether the blood is even real; how could there be so much of it? It could have been put there to scare him. Blood didn't scare him; he'd seen enough of it. Real or not, he wasn't fazed by it. In fact, he almost felt _more_ comfortable around blood than he did people.

His head remained drooped for a long time. He's trying to remember something, anything....no, everything from falling asleep next to Mrs Lovett was gone. _Ugh, I remember Mrs Lovett at least. I remember her vividly. Why couldn't I forget_ _**her**__?_

He needs something to trigger his memory. His eyes start re-searching the room, looking for anything that might help.

On the table beside him lies a series of instruments. Not of the musical kind either. Preferring not to look at them any further, or even to think about what or who they'd been used on, he turns his head away.

Cupboards, bookshelves, chests, fill the rooms perimeter. Not exactly close; this wasn't a small room and he was set in what looked like the middle of it. But close enough so he can see there are books on the shelves. He didn't know what was contained in the cupboards, or chests. And he didn't want to stay to find out.

Looking around wasn't helping. He had no idea where he was, how he got there...or more importantly, who brought him here and why. Too many questions were giving him a headache.

But, to his surprise, when he moves his hands the chains feel looser. Two tugs, and they loosen even more. By the third tug he is almost free. Obviously the person who tied these wanted him to struggle, but definitely wanted him free, or else they would have surely tied his bounds tighter.

Breaking free, the chains fall loudly to the floor. Surely that would wake whoever was holding him captive, but nobody came. Nothing changed.  
The room remained deadly silent. The only sound is his deep breathing... _Stop_. He's panicking. _No room for panic if i'm going to get out of this place._  
This place is creepy, but nothing he can't handle.

His eyes land on a door. There's another stool placed next to it, with what looks like a pile of clothes.

Slowly, he approaches it. He quickly puts the clothes on; he'd started to shiver from the cold. They felt strangely familiar. _They're my clothes._  
He almost didn't recognize them; they looked cleaner than they'd ever been.

_What's going on...?_

An envelope. A small, white envelope lies on the stool. He picks it up with hesitation. Something is very, very wrong here.

But what is written on the envelope scares him more.

It neatly reads, in perfect handwriting:

_Dear Mr T._

Is this some sort of sick joke? Mrs Lovett is the only person he can think of who calls him by that name.

This time, there's no hesitation. He rips open the envelope. It's written in the same, almost calligraphed, handwriting:

_Pull that frown upside down; I want to see a smile._

_There's no time to waste, you must go with haste. _

_Open the door, and make your way. _

_But, beware, you'll have to pay._

His hands shake as he places the letter back inside the envelope.

You'll have to pay...what the hell does that mean?

There's only one thing he can do.

With the note safely tucked in his back pocket, he opens the door.

_*~*~*_

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